Despair and Destruction [Truco - Roddo]

Far within the tintless sands of Hueco Mundo, known as the White Desert, the winds blew across the dunes. Scattering the white grains throughout the infinitely darkened sky causing an almost snow-like effect, as it descended back onto the desert, glittering in the moonlight. Along with the sands came a smell, this smell lingered throughout the air giving it a taste that was a tad reminiscent of iron. To some this smell would be rancid or nauseating, but here in this world of cannibals, most would relish in this scent and follow it. Which is exactly what occurred. The odor arose from a seemingly flat plain within the desert with a few trees in the vicinity, holding nothing amongst their branches and silvery white in hue as the usual in Hueco Mundo.

Between two of these ragged and brittle trees lied a beastly figure, brownish green skin covered it's body as well as a white mask oval in it's shape, adorned on the beast's face. The beast was about four times that of a human and slightly resembled one too. The hollow held four large gashes across it's back with it's entire shoulder area and arm appeared to had been ripped off. Despite these injuries, the hollow still breathed but heavily and emitted a wheezing noise as it did. The sands around the hollows wounds were no longer colorless, having been dyed in the color of crimson. This what quite an oddity. The most reasonable event that took place was that of nature, but why was it left here? Was it just a sick game to incite despair or torture by letting it bleed to death? Knowing that other weaker hollows would pick up the scent and begin to feast on the now defenseless hollow. As they soon began to come out of hiding to enjoy a meal on a silver platter. A few in number, around six, in their varying sizes and forms yet none bigger than the one that was to be feasted on. The weak hollows deciding to eat the crippled before eating each other. Such the simple mind of these weak hollows completely falling prey to their instincts alone, without allowing their minds any input on this decision.

A hollow similar in appearance to a vulture, but twice the size, took on the first bite. It's large beak lined with razor sharp teeth that tore into the flesh; ripping it, swallowing the meat whole, then repeating the process voraciously. In a heart beat, if they had one, the other five rushed to do the same. Greedily devouring away, slinging flesh and blood in differing directions as they salivated in the meal. One of a more cunning nature would have pondered the situation or atleast kept an eye out for anything suspicious, but no, they had all left their guard down. Even if they hadn't, it would not have mattered. They were all dead once they stepped foot or claw in these plains.

The sound of their ravenous eating overruled the sounds around them. The sand was starting to move not to far from them. Apparently, falling or sliding off of some mass that was indistinguishable from the sand itself due to no difference in the color. He had been waiting. His six tails soon rose, slowly, from the sand that covered them, begining to sway and whip about. Next, his main body followed suit, giving more detail to his appearance; the silvery-white fur moreover white than silver, the claws and fangs, the frigid cyan hued eyes, the large ears, and the cyan colored 'V' on his forehead. His body was that of a large fox, six feet in height while being thirteen feet long counting his six foot long tails. Completely white fur, aside from the mark on his forehead, allowed him to easily camouflage.

The grand fox now stood on his fore and hind legs behind the group of unsuspecting hollow, his fangs showing menacingly as he let loose an aggressive growl to alert his prey. Why would he do such a thing? To see the look of despair upon their faces...or masks. That immediate fall from hope into a pit of fear and despondency. The only one that seemed to catch the sound above the others was the vulture, diverting his attention from the feast to the terror behind him. The bird's eyes grew in fear and body shook in trepidation. In an instant, a static sound, before any cry could be heard; blood splattered...bones cracked...despair was given. The bodies of the hollows now ripped, and shreded were scattered in the area. Reaped of most of their meat leaving their bones to finally see beyond the wall of flesh that covered them. The fox's bright fur streaked with the blood of his prey along his legs, tails, and face. He currently lay leisurely, with his paw upon the vulture hollow, sinking his sharp fangs into the savory flesh of the bird. Bloodying his maw continuously, causing his blood stained fur to drip the red substance as his tails were like tendrils thrashing around effortlessly, kicking up sand far into the blackened night sky. The fox had been running this same routine for some time now, being to lazy to search and hunt for his prey. He had already consumed a couple thousand hollows from this method of crippling one hollow and leaving it to draw others. Then replacing the crippled hollow with a fresher one when it had fulfilled it's purpose of drawing in prey.

As he finished his meal, the fox began to try and rest by curling up with his tails curved to cover his face. However, his attempt to sleep had been disturbed as his left ear started to twitch in a specific direction, picking up a sound. Raising his head, he began to take sniffs of the air which confirmed the presence of another in the vicinity.